


The Storm's Dominion

by elektrolokomotive



Category: Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber
Genre: Coming of Age, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Rollerskates, biography of a fictional train, heavily meta interpretations of an obscure 80s rock opera, what else do i tag this as
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22299127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elektrolokomotive/pseuds/elektrolokomotive
Summary: Electra has not always been the vain and stylish racing champion most know him as.  His journey to stardom was far from smooth, marked by pain and hardship from its very beginning--but it was not a journey he made alone.  There have been many who touched his life in a multitude of degrees, but there are few he has forgotten.
Relationships: Components/Electra (Starlight Express)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 24





	1. One.

##  I

Wrench, at a respectful distance, peered between the Racer’s legs and said, “That’s it, Nova. Clever lad. Let’s have another push.”

Nova let out a deep, throaty groan, He was nearing the end of his arduous journey; by now, the baby’s head was visible. That said, this was the part of the process that Racers often needed a medic’s assistance with. They were, as a rule, slim and fragile creatures prone to tearing and wrapped cords, so Wrench was standing at the ready to intervene.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” she said gently. “Almost finished, now.”

Nova strained, arching his graceful back with the effort. He was sprawled on his side, one leg raised, on the floor of his living quarters. He had tucked a thick quilt provided by Solder under him for comfort; it was stained in places with blood.

“ _ Helvete! _ ,” Nova exclaimed suddenly. “Oh, it hurts!”

“I know, Nova. Be brave, now.”

He let out a high metallic whir, grimacing. His body was convulsing with each contraction, the spasms making his swollen belly ripple. Little white arcs of static leaped from his modest crest, filling the air with the tang of ozone.

It was quite late in the season for a birth. The rest of the expectant dams at Sunnyside had delivered already, and were for the most part looking after healthy foals. It was only the Racers left. “That will be because they came from overseas,” Solder had said, “They bred with our lads very late in the season.”

The air-conditioned living quarters afforded to the Racers meant less worry over the weather; out of doors, they would have run the risk of overheating. Wrench was grateful for this as she watched the trembling, heaving creature before her.

With a keening cry of agony. Nova had delivered the head amidst a viscous flow of blood and amniotic fluid. “Excellent job,” Wrench said. “Almost done.”

“ _ Polstjärnan _ ,” Nova hissed. “I am tired, nurse.”

“I know, my dear. You must keep on just a little longer.”

Nova, to his credit, was obedient. He pushed again, wailing shrilly. The infant’s shoulders came free, and it slid out onto the quilt in a torrent of fluids. Nova gasped with relief, sitting up at once. Wrench watched him as he gathered the newborn into his arms, murmuring in Swedish. Nova was a first-time mother, but it was the instinct of all spirits to clean and rouse their foals. He sucked the fluids from the infant’s mouth and nose, spitting them to one side. When this was done, the baby began to writhe and squeal.

“Healthy lungs, from the sound of things,” Wrench said approvingly. “And a decent size, too. Well done, Nova.”

Nova was paying her no mind, far too concerned with fussing over the infant. He cradled the squirming creature against his bare chest, purring loudly. “Baby, baby,” he cooed. “ _ Pojke.  _ My little one.”

The infant’s whimpering subsided as Nova continued to groom and cuddle. Wrench kept her distance, fully aware that new mothers were touchy--particularly electrics. She did not care to be zapped for her troubles today. Besides, she had a decent view of the infant from here. It was a moderately large, plump thing, as late-season foals tended to be. Under the marbling of birth fluids, she could see bright cerulean skin.  _ No doubting the parentage of this one _ , she mused.  _ That’s Foxtrot’s blue. _

Nova gave the baby his teat. The suckling was rhythmic and eager, exactly what one would anticipate from a healthy child. Wrench nodded approvingly. “Well, Nova,” she said, venturing to come a little closer now. “You have the distinct honor of mothering the first of our second generation.”

Nova smiled slightly, but did not look up.

“Will you let me see to the cord?”

Nova nodded, caressing the baby’s face with his free hand. Given permission, Wrench approached and dropped to her knees. She peered at the baby’s face momentarily. Up close, she could see that its plating, although still dull and soft, was a brilliant red--the same red as Nova’s. The damp, wavy beginnings of its crest were the same vibrant hue.

“What a beautiful baby, Nova,” Wrench said softly, deftly tying and cutting the cord. “Foxtrot will be very pleased.”

Nova bristled visibly at this. “What do I care?” He asked. “What do I care what Foxtrot thinks?”

“I don’t mean to offend,” Wrench responded. “I only hope that seeing his lovely child will ignite some interest in parenthood.”

Nova chattered. His anger faded quickly, however, and soon he was back to smiling tenderly at his child.

Wrench waited for the afterbirth to pass. When it had, she provided a few fresh blankets to the new mother and retreated, content to give Nova space. As she was gathering her tools to leave, however, Nova suddenly spoke up.

“Tell Foxtrot,” he said. “Tell him that I will name the child Electra.”

“Electra? I thought you had decided on Echo, after Foxtrot’s grandfather?”

Nova shook his head firmly. “No. It is my choice, what to call him. And I have chosen that he will be called Electra.”

Wrench bit back a sigh. This news would not please Foxtrot in the least. “It is a nice name, Nova,” she said at length. “It suits him well.”

##  II

It was nearing dusk when Foxtrot’s procession arrived home. The Racer went nowhere without his entourage--bodyguard, medic, racing partner, and groom. Solder, who had been the faithful lead medic at Sunnyside since her arrival here, had been chosen to attend on Foxtrot personally. This meant she was frequently away, leaving her former apprentice in charge.

Wrench sought her out now. Solder had already split off from Foxtrot’s procession and was making her way towards the medics’ quarters. Wrench caught up and fell into pace beside her, saying, “Nova’s had his foal.”

“Very good,” Solder answered. “How did he do?”

“Exceedingly well. The child is healthy and beautiful, and Nova seems to be recovering nicely.”

“I sense that there’s something on your mind, Wrench.”

“I’m worried about Foxtrot. I don’t know how well he’s going to respond to the baby, and it’s very clear that Nova doesn’t like him in the least..”

Solder sighed. “Your concerns are not ungrounded. He’s a bit of a featherbrain, our Fox. But you let me worry about him--he has been my charge since he was born. I have the best chance at acting as mediator. Now, let’s see this new Racer of ours.”

Wrench led the way back to the section of the engine house where the Racers were quartered. It was a modest area; the expansions were still in the planning phase. The small apartments were shared between the eight resident Racers and a pair of internationals--the gentle Nova from Sweden, and a pampered French thing called Minou. These two were boarded in particular luxury, being that they were on loan from overseas. The rest were leading, for the time being, a cramped and unstylish life.

“Hello, lads,” Solder said as the pair of medics passed through. Vixen, Jack, and Dolly were lazing about by the air conditioner in the common room, having spent their day practicing in the heat. They returned Solder’s greeting enthusiastically nonetheless.

“We heard Nova had the baby,” said Dolly. “When can we see him?”

“Let’s give poor Mother some time,” Solder answered. “He’s such a nervous thing, and you know how jumpy new dams can be. We wouldn’t want to cause him any undue stress.”

“We’re just excited,” said Jack. “Our first second-gen. Does Fox know yet?”

“We’ll tell him in a while. I suspect he isn’t particularly enthusiastic to meet the little one.”

Wrench watched Jack and Vixen exchange a meaningful glance. Then, Solder was knocking gently on Nova’s door. “Nova, dear, it’s Solder. I’d love to see your little nipper.”

“Come in, Solder,” Nova answered.

The air inside the apartment was warm and close. The temperature of the rooms was carefully controlled to maintain the proper environment for the Racers, and, in this case, their foals. The rich aroma of colostrum was overpowering.

Nova was sprawled on his bed, looking grand and serene. He gave the medics a sleepy smile and said, “ _ Hallo _ . He is sleeping now.”

As promised, Electra was curled up at Nova’s belly, fast asleep. Now that he was clean and dry, he proved to be a rather magnificent infant. His colors were dazzling and his size impressive; the extensive prenatal care Nova had been subject to had clearly done him well.

“May I touch him, Nova?” Solder asked, practically beaming. Her first love was of midwifery, and nothing delighted her like a newborn foal.

“Of course,” Nova answered, but panted nervously as Solder knelt to stroke the baby’s back.

“Hello, you marvelous little thing,” Solder said. “You are a beauty, aren’t you?”

Electra stirred, peeping softly. Nova quickly dropped his head to nose the infant, whirring.

“Yes, you did a good job, Nova,” Solder murmured, “He’s quite perfect.”

“Thank you,” Nova replied. Electra had awakened fully and was wriggling, lifting his little head in search of milk. Nova gathered the foal against his chest to nurse,

“We’ll let you be,” Solder said, motioning for Wrench to follow. “There will be plenty of time for a full check-up later.”

Nova looked appreciative.

##  III

Night had fallen in earnest by the time Foxtrot had bathed and returned outdoors. The commons were cool, a thin fog laying like a shroud on the lawn of blue-green grass. A few garden spirits were lazing about, plump and content with late spring plenty. Summer was nearly upon Sunnyside.

Kaiser was already laid on the grass, arms folded under his head. He was dozing, but was quick to rouse when Foxtrot neared.

“Fox,” he said, sitting up at once. “Did you see him yet?”

Foxtrot preened his crest. “See who?”

“The baby. Didn’t anyone take you to see him?”

Foxtrot was bemused. “ _ My  _ baby? Has he been born?”

“Nova delivered this morning. I’m shocked no one told you.”

Kaiser watched his friend evenly. Foxtrot bristled unexpectedly, quite offended that, up to now, no one had bothered to pass the news along to him. “I’m hardly surprised,” he said, sour. “None of them trust me.”

He settled on the grass, close enough to Kaiser that they could butt heads gently before taking to grooming each other.

“How was the race?” Kaiser asked, smoothing the silky fall of Foxtrot’s high crest.

“Boring,” Foxtrot replied. “Everything’s dull when you’re leagues faster than all your competition.”

“I don’t understand why they won’t let us go overseas. We’d have more fun over there.”

Foxtrot sighed. “I reckon this isn’t what I was bred for,” he said, “I could be holding my own on the international circuit, but instead I’m running against those clumsy Passengers over and over. They’re never going to see how fast I really am if they don’t get me some real competition.”

Kaiser nuzzled him soothingly. “Give it time.”

For four years now, Foxtrot had been running races against the fastest Electric Passengers—one of the American Racer’s parent breeds, and not nearly as quick as he was. After a year, Kaiser and Vixen had joined him, and each year since a few more Racers came of age and were added to the roster. But, being the new breed that they were, real competition was difficult. Only when Eurasian Racers visited was the game any real fun, and the only internationals to be shipped out for ages were the two spoiled geldings currently living in the engine house.

“You’ll have your chance,” Kaiser went on. “You’re our rising star, after all. None of us are even half as quick as you.”

Foxtrot filled his chest at these words, thrumming. At length he said, “I saw my mother at the race today. I have a new half-brother at some yard in Virginia.”

“There, you see?” Kaiser responded. “In about 8 years, you’ll have some competition.”

They laughed; then, with some trepidation, Foxtrot said, “Do you think the kid’s going to be anything like me?”

“Hard to say. We’re still an  _ unstable breed _ . There’s no telling how he’ll turn out.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Will you go and see him?”

“I guess I’d better.” So saying, he laid back in the grass. “Later on.”

##  IV

For the time being, Nova had seen nothing of Foxtrot; this was a great relief. He was anxious enough, looking after the squirming, squeaking Electra—the last thing he needed was some cocky stallion pestering him.

The apartment he currently made his home in was comfortably appointed, and with frequent visits from Wrench and Solder, Nova was perfectly content to seclude himself. Solder gently encouraged him to venture outside and let the other Racers meet Electra, but Nova knew better. He came from a proud line of Eurasian Racers descending from the original German stock, and for as long as he could remember, Racer foals were kept away from the fleet for a week after birth, at least. They were fragile, after all.

Nova had never had a foal before. He had spent his early life anticipating the day that he would, although he had always expected to be paired with one of his fleetmates back home, where they could raise the child together. But, for better or for worse, he was Sweden’s fastest. His record was nearly perfect, and his health was immaculate. So, for a pricey contract, he had been sent here to let America’s first Racer sire his foal.

He nudged Electra gently, waking the infant to feed. Electra chirped in greeting, crawling readily into Nova’s waiting arms. He cuddled close to his dam’s chest, grasping him with clever little hands. As he latched on to suckle, Nova let out an even breath.  _ Never let yourself pant or buzz while the baby feeds _ , his own dam had told him long ago.  _ Little ones have a way of sensing anxiety _ .

Electra was lovely. His chestnut-brown face was relaxed while he nursed; his black lashes fluttered as his filmy eyes darted to and fro. His crown plating was identical to Nova’s, cherry red and coming to a proud point on his brow. All over, minute silver markings were beginning to show up on the lurid blue of his skin.

“ _ Vacker pojke _ ,” Nova told him. “You will grow up to be very pretty,”

The foal purred at the sound of his dam’s voice.

When he had finished his meal, Electra returned to the soft quilts and cushions of their bed. As he curled up to sleep, there was a knock on the door. Nova rose, unsteady, and rolled to answer it.

Solder and Wrench were, once again, at the threshold. “Hello, Nova,” said Solder. “It’s time for a check-up.”

Nova let them in readily, hurrying back to his bed to nudge Electra once more. The baby peeped in irritation. Nova cooed, quieting him, but as soon as Solder had lifted him, he began to shriek.

“Oh, someone’s crabby,” Solder said, smiling indulgently. “I’m afraid I’m going to be a bother today.”

The medic moved Electra from the bed to the kitchenette counter, where he could be more easily examined. Electra went on protesting shrilly. Solder duly ignored him, going about a gentle and thorough examination. Nova watched over her shoulder, wringing his hands. Solder was experienced and Nova trusted her implicitly, but the sound of Electra’s distress made him shiver and ache.

“Perfect, indeed,” Solder said, more to herself than Nova. “He’s ideal in every way.” She tickled under Electra’s chin. “I am sorry to say I need a little blood, young Electra. Please don’t hold it against me.”

Electra wailed all the more passionately as Solder pricked his arm, making Nova tremble. Soon, though, Solder was handing the infant over once more. “There you are, Mother,” she said. “How is his nursing?”

“Very good,” Nova answered, soothing Electra with gentle strokes down his back. “He is quite hungry.”

“We do like a healthy appetite.”

Wrench came forward, placing a hand on Nova’s arm. “I would like to examine you, as well,” she said. “To assure that you are healing properly from the birth.”

Nova submitted readily to this, cuddling Electra while Wrench peered between his legs and prodded his belly. When she was satisfied, she said, “Do you feel nearly ready to go outside? I think you’re due some fresh air.”

Nova hesitated. “Will you watch Electra? He is not ready to go outdoors yet.”

“I understand your concern, Nova, but the rest of our foals born this season are already out in the commons. Your little one would do well in their company.”

“They are not Racers,” Nova replied. “We are fragile. A Passenger foal would surely hurt him.”

“Luckily, we have the perfect companion for him,” Solder said. “One of the young carriage mares unexpectedly gave birth to a hybrid just before Electra was born. It seems that she got up to some mischief with a Racer. The little one would be an ideal playmate for yours.”

Nova considered this. The carriages were almost universally petite, docile beings who posed no threat to anyone. He could see no danger in allowing this foal to play with Electra. In truth, the latter was rapidly growing restless—a friend was warranted. Eventually, Nova nodded.

“Very good,” Solder said. “Perhaps you could bring Electra out to the commons this evening, after the Passenger foals have gone in.”

“I will.” Nova hesitated. “Will Foxtrot be there?”

“Certainly not. We keep all our stallions separated from the foals unless strictly supervised. There is no need to risk an accidental injury because some clumsy male doesn’t know his own strength.”

Nova groomed Electra’s fuzzy crest. “I do not want him near Electra. Not yet.”

“We understand,” said Wrench. “But, you will let him see the baby eventually, yes?”

“Perhaps. If he does not give me reason not to.”

Wrench and Solder exchanged a troubled glance, but did not press him further.

##  V

As evening neared, Minou went into labor, Wrench conceded the delivery to Solder, and went instead to the commons. She sat in the grass for a while and watched the Passenger foals wriggle about in the grass while their dams looked on. They had had a healthy crop this season, with seven babies total—all were thriving, and their mothers recovering well. Reproduction was not an easy thing for the Trahendians, and each healthy birth was a small miracle.

This group ranged in age from two weeks to two months, but all were content to play with each other. Foals developed fast, and even at this early age were sitting up and smiling at their dams. Wrench had little maternal instinct, but she found them fascinating nonetheless.

As the Sun sank lower, casting the sky in copper and magenta, the Passengers began to retire. They gathered up their foals and made their way from the commons to the engine house. As they dispersed, Wrench began to look around for Nova. She hoped that he had not changed his mind. It was time that Electra saw the outside world and made a friend; it would be a lonely existence, otherwise.

As Wrench waited, Pixie appeared abruptly from the growing dimness. “Hiya, Wrench,” she said. “I hope we’re not too late.” Pixie, a tiny carriage, was carrying her own newborn on her shoulder. The baby was wide awake, looking around with bleary blue eyes.

“This must be Joule,” Wrench said. She had not attended on this one’s birth; the carriages had their own medic.

“That’s right,” Pixie answered, bending to lay the little one in the grass. Joule’s parentage was obvious; the white tufts of a growing crest gave away a Racer sire. Wrench had already pressed the stallions under her care for a confession, but none seemed eager to claim the child as theirs. “She’s excited to meet her new friend.”

Wrench scanned for Nova once more. “I only hope his dam decides to show.”

As she spoke, she caught a glint of silvery light and realized that Nova was approaching from behind. He had skirted the commons, presumably to avoid any Passenger stragglers.

“ _ Hallo _ ,” he said softly, watching Wrench and Pixie with bright eyes.

“Hi, sweetie,” Pixie answered. “I’m glad you came. We were really hoping to meet your little zapper.”

Nova was cradling Electra close to his chest, and gave the foal an anxious glance now. He looked to Joule, who was tugging curiously at handfuls of grass, and seemed to relax a little. He shifted Electra into the crook of his arm, so that Pixie could admire him.

“Oh, he’s  _ gorgeous _ ,” the carriage said. “We figured he’d be pretty. Look at that shiny plating!”

Nova seemed to grow more confident at this. Electra was blinking sleepily, clearly fresh from a nap. Slowly and carefully, his dam placed him in the grass by Joule. As Nova stood back, he glanced to Wrench.

“That’s good, Nova,” Wrench encouraged. “They’re bound to be friends.”

She watched Electra closely. He was mobile and deft for a neonate, swinging his head to and fro as he attempted to process the barrage of new smells. Joule, meanwhile, chirped softly to her new companion. Eventually, she had crawled forward enough to reach Electra, who peeped in alarm at the unfamiliar touch. Nova whined, but did not move to intervene. Quickly, Electra’s fear had passed and he had turned to face Joule, reaching out to touch her in return. They spoke to each other in gentle cheeps and whirs, Pixie cooed.

“They’re so sweet,” she said. “I’m so glad my little Joule will have someone like her. She’s a little overwhelming for the other carriage foals. But Electra seems to like her just fine.”

Wrench was inclined to agree—in the few moments since they’d met, Joule had already made herself quite at home climbing atop Electra. Electra purred, clearly unbothered by her grasping hands.

Wrench looked to Nova. He was smiling at the pair of foals, and after a moment turned to look gratefully to Wrench and Pixie. “Thank you both,” he said. “They will be good friends.”

“Let’s hope so,” Pixie said. “They’re quite the match!”

##  VI

Another week had passed, and still Foxtrot had not been to see his newborn. Wrench was beginning to grow annoyed. It was one thing, for Nova to be reluctant. They had not had the fondest relationship during the breeding and pregnancy; Foxtrot was altogether too self-absorbed to care much for his mate. Privately, Wrench could not begin to understand his disinterest—Nova was as pretty and agreeable a spirit as they came. But Wrench, admittedly, understood little of love or romance. At any rate, Foxtrot had scarcely spoken to Nova since the breeding, so Nova’s distaste for him was understandable. But Wrench had put it past even Foxtrot to be so indifferent to his own offspring.

Today, she took it upon herself to introduce them. Nova had relaxed a great deal since the meeting with Pixie and Joule, and was far more willing to let Electra out of his sight. Electra, for his part, was growing quickly. At two weeks old, he was alert and inquisitive, and growing more mobile by the day. He spent a great deal of time with Joule, and had also been introduced to Minou’s foal, Sunny. As such, he had quickly become friendly and sociable; he seemed to be quite ready to meet his sire. So Wrench scooped him up from his spot in the grass and looked to Nova.

“I’m taking him for a moment,” she said. “It’s time he met the other Racers.”

Nova frowned, sitting up at once. “Will it be safe?”

“Of course, dear. I would never let anything happen to him.”

Nova seemed momentarily torn, wanting both to look after his foal and to remain lounging in the warm morning sunshine. Eventually, his trust for Wrench won out, and he relaxed once more.

“I won’t be a minute,” Wrench said. “I just want the rest to say hello.”

She carried the chirruping Electra from the commons into the engine house, where the Racers spent the majority of these warm days. She found the lot of them gathered, grooming each other lazily. Vixen looked up at her approach and noticed the baby in her arms.

“Well, look who it is,” he said, getting to his feet. “We finally get to meet the little prince?”

Foxtrot, who had been reclined between Kaiser and Dolly, turned to look as well.

Sitting in Wrench’s arms, Electra squealed at the sight of Vixen and reached out with chubby hands. Vixen let out an adoring whir and said, “What a sweetie. Can I hold him?”

“It would seem that’s what he’s after,” Wrench replied, conceding Electra to the Racer. Vixen cuddled him enthusiastically, and Electra purred.

Soon, Kaiser had risen as well, motioning for Foxtrot. Foxtrot stayed firmly put. “Aw, come on, Fox,” his friend coaxed. “He sure is cute.”

“Yes he  _ is _ ,” Dolly said, skating close to offer Electra a finger. Electra grabbed it readily, bringing it to his mouth at once. Dolly giggled. “I love him. I can’t wait to have my own.”

“There’s no need to rush,” Vixen replied. “We can just enjoy this pretty thing for now.”

By now, every Racer had gathered around Wrench and Vixen save Foxtrot. Wrench watched him through the small crowd, finding him tugging at the back of his crest.

“Foxtrot,” she said firmly. “Stop being silly. Don’t you want to meet your child?”

With enormous reluctance, Foxtrot rose. The others moved aside as he rolled closer, hands clasped behind him. Electra, who had been thoroughly enjoying everyone’s attention, looked up at the newcomer with bright eyes.

“Foxtrot,” Wrench said. “This is Electra.”

“ _ Electra? _ ” Foxtrot repeated. “His name was supposed to be Echo.”

“I understand. But Nova made the decision to call him Electra, and it is his right as dam to choose.”

Foxtrot fairly glowered. Electra was reaching out to him insistently, mouth open.

“Well, what does he want?” The Racer asked, looking to Wrench.

“He wants you to hold him,” she replied.

“I don’t  _ want  _ to hold him.” He wrinkled his nose at Electra. “I don’t know why everyone thinks he’s so cute.  _ I _ think he’s weird-looking.”

“Fox,” Dolly scolded at once. “He’s your baby.”

“I didn’t ask for him.”

Wrench glanced around at the others. They looked quite as taken aback as she felt. “Well,” she said at length. “I understand that you may not be ready for this responsibility just yet. I do hope you’ll change your mind.”

Foxtrot went on scowling at Electra, who by now had given up attempting to get his attention and was reaching for Dolly instead.


	2. Two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back!! This chapter was a STRUGGLE to write and I'm really not sure why lmao. Anyway, it's done! Hope you all enjoy it and hope you're staying safe and healthy <3

##  I

Summer arrived at Sunnyside with reckless abandon. The cool, overcast days of springtime were forgotten with the typical swiftness, replaced with sultry heat and glaring sunshine. The grass in the common browned until it was crisp underfoot; rain was infrequent, and when it came it was in fat, lukewarm droplets preceding thunderstorms. Fruit ripened and rotted in the heat, perfuming the heavy air with its sickly sweetness

As June turned to July and July to August, the hours of daylight became loathsome and weary. The spring’s foals flourished and grew ever larger. The children of the working fleet, whose parents spent long days powering commuter engines or tending passenger cars, played under the watchful eye of their babysitters. They would grow up tanned deeply by the Sun. 

At the opposite end of the yard, the Racers secluded themselves in their specially-constructed lodgings, rarely emerging during the day’s hottest hours. The pair of youngsters belonging to them were content with this isolation, for now. But they, too, were growing rapidly--two months of age and less helpless by the day. Sooner or later, the itch for more would develop.

Minou, the French national, had taken up his usual spot by the air conditioner to watch Electra and Sunny at play. Racers at this age were terrifically entertaining--clumsy and excitable, with enough strength to sit up and crawl and explore with unquenchable curiosity. Their eyes were wide with wonder, taking in every sight around them. Their crests were beginning to come in in wild, colorful tufts. They chatted softly to each other in nonsensical whirs and chirps, imitating the more elegant speech of their parents.

Sunny was the smaller of the two. He had colors like his sire, Kaiser’s--silvery skin and deep red hair. He yielded to Electra as they wrestled; for being so young, Nova’s foal was strong and assertive.

“He’ll be like his father,” Minou had said, and immediately regretted it. Nova bristled with static and showed his teeth.

“He will be  _ nothing _ like Foxtrot. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Minou did not press the issue further. It was clear to him that no amount of cajoling from the medics or the other Racers would coax Nova and Foxtrot to reconcile their differences, although that didn’t stop them from trying.

“It’s not as though a foal  _ needs _ a father,” Nova said often. “I can manage perfectly well on my own.”

Minou restrained himself from replying, “But we won’t always be around.”

Electra nipped Sunny until he mewled. Minou rose and gently parted the pair, checking his child over quickly. “Just a nibble,” he said. “You will be fine.”

Sunny purred at the attention from his mother. He rolled playfully onto his back and swatted at Minou’s hand. Minou laughed. As he returned to his resting spot, he found that another Racer had appeared at the entrance of the common room. It was Flash, a slender, pretty gelding Minou had befriended during his pregnancy. Flash approached, greeting Minou softly as he settled nearby.

“Through with your training?” Minou asked. Flash’s hair was damp, fresh from a bath.

“Yes, thank Polestar,” Flash replied. “I can’t wait until they finish the indoor track. This heat is unbearable.”

Flash had attracted the attention of Electra, who freed himself from his wrestling match with Sunny and crawled to the adults. Flash leaned to scoop him up, cooing.

“Where’s Nova?” He asked, settling with Electra on his chest.

“Napping. He will be watching the children this evening.”

“Lucky him,” Flash replied earnestly. He stroked Electra’s crest and said, “I can’t wait to have one of my own.”

“Do you think it will be soon?” Minou replied, standing to fetch Sunny.

“Hopefully. I was told Vixen and I are supposed to be getting mates next year.” Electra laid his head on Flash’s chest as he spoke, blinking sleepily. “I just wish they’d let us pick.”

“And who would you choose, if you could?”

Flash looked a bit sheepish as he said, “Foxtrot. He always said we’d have kids together. I’ve known him since we were babies ourselves.”

“Are you envious of Nova?”

“No way. Fox doesn’t like him much. Even if he did, it’s not permanent.”

Those words were met with a resounding silence.

“I’m sorry,” Flash said at once. “That was a stupid thing to say.”

Minou shrugged. “I have resigned myself to it. I knew I would not be able to see my child grow to adulthood. It was in the contract.”

Flash did not meet his eye. “But you’ll still be sad to leave him.”

That, Minou could not disagree with.

##  II

With an almighty effort, Foxtrot put on one last burst of speed, overtaking Amour. Amour did not acknowledge him, focused on the track; they were approaching their final turn. The track banked hard, hard enough that any Racer not paying attention could be tripped up and take a nasty fall. But Foxtrot took the corner with ease, lowering his head and pinning his arms at his side to accelerate towards the finish line. Cameras flashed as he crossed it, and went on flashing as he collapsed into an exhausted heap on the sidelines. He laid panting and enjoyed the spotlight.

Amour pulled up beside him within seconds. He, too, let himself down onto his knees, then all fours, panting hard. “That was a close one,” he said.

Foxtrot laughed. “If you say so.”

Next to cross was Comet, from Capitol City Racing. He circled Foxtrot and Amour once before joining them on the ground. “Good run, boys,” he said. “Seems like a couple of yours are still out there.”

“Jack’s in last place,” Amour said. “As per fucking usual.”

“Where’s Kaiser?” Foxtrot sat up, realizing that he had not glimpsed his friend since the second lap.

“Dunno,” Amour answered. “I figured he’d be finishing right after us.”

Foxtrot caught Vixen’s eye as he crossed the finish line. He looked troubled. Foxtrot got to his feet, feeling wobbly, and skated to Vixen’s side.

“Kaiser took a fall,” Vixen said as he neared. “They think he might have sprained his ankle.”

“Polestar,” Foxtrot said, craning his neck to scan for any sign of Kaiser.

“They already brought him to Solder,” Vixen said. “They’re icing his foot now, but he may have to be sent home.”

“And miss the rest of the circuit?” Amour cut in, coming to Vixen’s side. Foxtrot knew that it wasn’t concern that spurred the comment. “We’re just getting started.”

Vixen shrugged, watching Amour carefully. “Well, if you’re so worried, why don’t you go find him? I’m sure he’d be thrilled to see you.”

Chastened, Amour retreated to mingle with the other Racers. Foxtrot gave Vixen a nod and headed for the medic’s tent set up in the center field.

Kaiser, as Vixen had suggested, was already inside the tent and being tended by Solder. He was stretched out on a cot with his right foot wrapped in ice packs. He looked up at Foxtrot’s approach and gave a muted greeting.

“What happened?” Foxtrot asked, crouching beside the cot.

“I broke an axle,” Kaiser answered. “I didn’t even realize it happened until I tried to take a corner. My foot went out from under me.”

“It’s a mild sprain, I think,” Solder said. “We’re waiting for the swelling to go down.”

“But he’ll have to go home,” Foxtrot replied.

“Most definitely. Two weeks’ rest, at least.”

Kaiser saw the look that crossed Foxtrot’s face and chuckled. “You’ll survive without me,” he said. “Besides, I’ve been feeling bad about leaving Minou alone anyway. I’d like to see my kid.”

Foxtrot felt Solder’s eyes on him. “Amour was asking about you.”

“Not out of good faith, I assume.”

“He’s going to overtake you in the rankings now.”

Kaiser shrugged. “It’s not as though I have much of a choice but to let him. Just don’t let him get too big a head.”

“I can’t be the leader in your place.”

“You don’t need to. Vixen will handle all that.” Kaiser grinned. “They’ll listen to him.”

Foxtrot turned his back to Kaiser, moving to the entrance of the tent to peer out at the swath of silver clouds obscuring the sunset. The rains of late summer had followed the Racers wherever they went; even now, Foxtrot smelled the scent of impending rain. For the first time in what felt like years, he thought of his father. Was he happy, wherever he was? Did he care to recall anything of the mate and child he had left behind?

“You alright?” Kaiser asked suddenly. “You look a little pale yourself.”

“Tired,” Foxtrot replied, quickly reaching to smooth his crest. “I can’t wait for a day off.”

“I noticed you didn’t bother sticking around to get your ribbon,” Solder piped up. “Something on your mind?”

“I was just worried about Kaiser. Who cares about a ribbon anyway?”

Solder raised an eyebrow. She was not an easy person to lie to, particularly for Foxtrot; she was all but a second mother to him, after all. She held Foxtrot’s gaze unflinchingly until he felt compelled to look away.

“Is this about Electra?” Solder pressed.

Foxtrot wrinkled his nose. “No. I already told everyone I don’t want to be involved.”

Solder clearly had more to say, but at that moment, a distant roll of thunder drew their attention. The back of Foxtrot’s neck prickled. It was rather late in the season for a storm; the Commission did their best to schedule races after the weather turned cooler and the chances of attracting lightning spirits decreased. When they were unavoidable, races were often cancelled and the Racers made to take shelter. Lightning spirits, despite being naturally drawn to the electric breeds, were dangerous and unpredictable creatures.

“We should head inside,” Solder said, moving at once to help Kaiser to his feet. She led the way out of the tent and towards the building that the travelling Racers were being quartered in. As she went, she gave Foxtrot a glance over her shoulder.

“Take care that you come indoors,” she said coolly. “Wouldn’t want you stuck out in the storm.”

##  III

Two weeks of recovery time for Kaiser turned into six weeks--upon closer examination, Wrench determined that he had partially torn a ligament and would be better off allowing it to heal completely before returning to training. Kaiser was none too pleased at this news, but Minou was delighted.

“I never thought I’d be so happy to see him,” he said to Nova now. They were laying together on Nova’s bed, their foals dozing between them. “But it felt wrong, to be away from my child’s father.”

“You two like each other,” Nova answered, pulling gently at a snarl in Minou’s silky hair. “I don’t know if that makes you lucky, or unlucky.”

Minou laughed pleasantly. “I am very lucky, it would seem,” he said. “And so is he.” There was a long silence in which Minou looked to the children. They were thoroughly worn out, having spent the afternoon playing in the cool waters of the wading pool. A few of the youngsters from the working fleet had joined them, including Electra’s friend Joule. 

“I won’t lecture you,” Minou was saying. “I know that Solder and Wrench have pestered you endlessly about letting Foxtrot near Electra. But what will you do when you must leave the child? Who will be his guardian?”

“Foxtrot does not want him.”

Minou looked taken aback. “What makes you so sure of that?”

“He said so himself. Dolly told me.”

Minou did not seem to have anything to say in response to that.

Nova glanced to the window. Night was falling outside, the last beams of the summer sun fading in a blaze of crimson brilliance. A single star, gleaming like a polished gemstone, was visible from where the Racer laid. He stared, letting his eyes go out of focus until the star was a blur of whitish light against the violet sky. Something deep in his chest twinged painfully.

“Are you well?” Minou asked, tearing Nova from his trance.

“I think I ought to get some fresh air,” Nova replied. “I’ve been cooped up all day.”

He began, gingerly, to move off of the bed. But even this slight shift was enough to rouse the foals, who at once started to squirm and mewl. Nova smiled and reached for Electra. “Come, my darling,” he said. “Why don’t we go outdoors for a while?”

Electra and Sunny resisted being parted. They clung like true nestmates, although they were of no relation. That was simply the nature of their kind. Nova gently disentangled them and took his own child into his arms. Electra looked for a moment put-upon, but he seemed to quickly resign himself to this new adventure. He rocked himself into a sitting position to have a better view of his surroundings as Nova left the apartment behind.

Outside, the air was crisp. The hottest hours of the day were behind them--a breeze light with autumnal coolness was blowing. It caressed Nova’s hot skin and ruffled his crest as he went. He was intent upon the common, which at this hour was largely deserted. He knew that, with most of the team still away on a racing circuit, no one would bother him now. He could have a moment alone with his child, a feat which seemed impossible in the confines of the Racers’ dwelling.

He had gotten halfway to the commons when a voice called out to him from the darkness. Startled, Nova spun to find the source. It was Wrench, approaching from the direction of the engine house, and she was not alone. A pace behind her was an older electric female Nova had never seen before.

“Nova, my dear,” Wrench was saying. “I was just coming to find you. I have with me someone who would like to meet Electra.”

Nova, though he trusted Wrench, was wary. He held his foal close as the pair neared.

The electric female approached first. “Hello,” she said, meeting Nova’s gaze with a measured calmness. She had a dignified bronze face and copper eyes. “My name is Tango. Your little one is my grandchild.”

Nova glanced down at Electra, who was watching the newcomer placidly. “You are Foxtrot’s mother?”

Tango nodded. “Wrench has told me you don’t get on well with my boy,” she said. “And I want you to know that I don’t hold that against you--he’s a lot like his father. But I was hoping to see the baby.”

“Of course,” Nova replied at once. “It is an honor to meet you.”

Tango chuckled as she ventured closer. She smiled at Electra, who bashfully chewed a hand. Eventually, Tango gave an approving nod and said, “He’s very fine. If you don’t mind me saying, he looks a lot like Fox. A lot like Azur, too.”

“Azur?” Nova replied. He spared Wrench a glance; she was watching intently.

“Foxtrot’s sire. He was a French Racer they sent over as a progenitor. Half lightning spirit and a mean, wild thing. I was about the only one here he cared for.” Tango sighed. “I was hoping that would be the case with you and Foxtrot, but I can’t say I’m surprised you don’t get along. He’s a handful.”

Nova smiled slightly. “Would you like to hold Electra?”

“I would be honored.”

Carefully, Nova transferred the sleepy infant into Tango’s arms. Tango began to smile at once, eyes gleaming in the dimness of twilight. “Oh, you’re a well-fed little thing,” she said. Electra squirmed a bit, but Tango was clearly experienced; she held him firmly, and soon he had settled. Tango cooed. “That’s it, baby. You just let me look at you, now.”

Gently, she ruffled his curly crest and tickled under his chin. Electra purred. Eventually, Tango said, “You’re just beautiful, little Electra. You’re gonna grow up big and fine.”

Nova chattered softly. “He must remind you of your son,” he said.

“That he does. But he’s sweet. He cuddles right up. Foxtrot never did.”

Electra’s blinks grew long and slow. He yawned, tiny hands kneading at Tango’s chestplate. Seeing that he was dozing, Tango returned him to Nova’s arms--but not without a visible hesitation. She went on smiling at the foal as he nestled into his mother’s chest.

“Will you let me see him, sometimes?” Tango asked.

“Of course,” Nova replied at once. “He must know his family. He will not have me for long, after all.”

“No, dear,” Tango said at length. “I suppose he won’t.” She pursed her lips in a way that suggested a frown. With nothing else said, she turned to Wrench and gave a polite nod, then vanished into the deepening gloom.

##  IV

With the birthing season behind them, Wrench’s workload had diminished rapidly. She had little left to occupy her time save the occasional checkup--Kaiser for his healing ankle, Dolly to assure he was healing from his gelding operation properly--so when she had finished her rounds, she often found herself in the common room. Here, the Racers who were not busy with practice or away at events gathered. They were always pleased to see her.

“Wrench,” Vixen greeted her now, as the medic settled on a low chair. “You’re just in time.”

Wrench inclined her head. “In time for what?”

“We were just settling down to discuss what we’re going to do about Foxtrot.”

Wrench glanced at the other Racers gathered. Flash and Minou were seated by the window, and Dolly was being tenderly groomed by Ginger on a floor mat. Notably absent was Nova.

Turning back to Vixen, Wrench said, “I see that this is a cause of concern for all of you.”

“It certainly is,” Vixen replied. He straightened up as he spoke, the fingertips of one hand hovering over his midsection. It was mid-October, which meant that Vixen was now more than two months pregnant. Wrench did not find it difficult to imagine that the reality of Nova’s situation was clearer to the Racer now than ever before. “Since it’s clear that Fox won’t be accepting any sort of responsibility for Electra-”

“Let’s not be hasty, Vixen,” Wrench interjected. “I don’t think it’s fair to call Foxtrot a lost cause yet,”

Vixen pursed his lips. “I do.”

Flash got to his feet abruptly, drawing Wrench’s attention. “I know Fox better than anyone,” he said. “And we’ve all talked a lot about it. We think it would be better if one of us was allowed to look after Electra once… once Nova goes home.”

Having said his piece, Flash retreated to the couch and sat on his hands, looking anxious. The rest watched Wrench expectantly. The medic held her breath a moment, considering her next words carefully.

“While it is not my decision to make,” she said at length, “I do not believe that would be wise. Those of you who are of age will have your own child to look after by then. Two young foals can be a lot to handle.”

“What’s going to happen to him, then?” Dolly asked. “He’ll need someone to take care of him.”

“There are options,” Wrench replied, trying her best to sound reassuring. “Electra has other family in the yard. Tango is his grandmother, and she has experience raising Racers. And if all else fails-” Here Wrench faltered slightly, her own thoughts catching her off guard. “If all else fails, I will raise him myself.”

The gathered Racers exchanged tense glances. 

“But I must disagree with you,” Wrench continued. “I do believe there is still hope for Foxtrot. Now, if you would tell me where Nova is, I find I should like to speak with him.”

“He is watching the children.” Minou answered, motioning towards the door of the apartment he and Nova shared. “He may not want to be disturbed.”

Wrench entered nonetheless. The still, warm air inside the apartment was stifling; Wrench loosened her collar. As she progressed, the drowsy aromas of milk and freshly laundered sheets overpowered her. What little sound there was-the tick of a wall clock, the thrum of a radiator-was muffled. Truly, this place felt like a nesting den, a sanctuary from the outside world.

Nova was stretched out on his bed, looking half-asleep. Electra and Sunny were nursing placidly; Nova and Minou shared the burden of feeding them. Things were very far removed from the traditional ways of living here, but there would always be holdovers. 

“Nova,” Wrench said gently. Nova started awake, his hands moving instinctively to the backs of the foals. His eyes fell on Wrench, though, and he relaxed.

“Hello, nurse,” he said. “What brings you here?”

“I do hate to bother you, Nova, but I find something is weighing on my mind.”

“Go on.” Nova shifted into a more comfortable position.

“I think you ought to try having a conversation with Foxtrot.”

Nova bristled. Wrench had anticipated this reaction, however, and did not back down.

“You two must come to some sort of agreement. The fate of your child hangs in the balance. Have you thought at all of what might become of him, if you two don’t settle things between you?”

Nova lowered his eyes. “What is there to be said, Wrench?” He asked softly. “It lays in Foxtrot’s hands, whether or not he chooses to reject his foal.”

“Have you considered that he might respond better if the pair of you could be civil with one another?”

“I tried to be civil,” Nova replied, his tone growing sharp. “When we mated, he was cold. He made no attempt to care for me--it was but an inconvenience to him. What can I do in return? Grovel to him? Beg him to accept his child? I will  _ not _ .”

Wrench sighed softly. “Please, Nova. Talk to him once more. That’s all I ask.”

Nova did not respond. He turned his attention to the foals; Electra had begun to fuss. Wrench, feeling acutely self-conscious, retreated.

##  V

The first of November brought flurries of snow to Sunnyside. It seemed to Nova that autumn had a short life here; it was over almost as soon as it had begun. The pleasantly cool days of September and October had turned bitterly chilly in the blink of an eye. When he rose in the mornings, Nova was greeted by glittering frost on his windowpanes. In no time at all, winter would settle over the city. Last year’s had been bitter and unforgiving--Nova had spent much of his pregnancy cuddled close to Minou by the radiator. In that regard, New York was quite like his home.

Practices were moved into the newly-completed velodrome, as Racers did not fare well in the cold. Nova himself did not participate in the practices, but he did enjoy the company of the HiWay Racers; it was a relief, sometimes, to stretch his legs and take a few laps with Vixen and Flash. He had begun to miss the exhilaration of speed, the thrill of banking sharply and leaning into the force of acceleration. 

“But I would not change things,” he said to Electra, setting the colt down on the pristine turf. “Not for all the first place ribbons in the world.”

Electra smiled brightly. He was five months old, alert and affectionate. He stood freely on his own now, but was yet to take his first steps. He was nervous; Racers were an anxious breed from the start. Nova was not worried.

“You will get there in time,” he said. “Stay put now,  _ pojke.  _ Minou will be here to look after you soon.”

Leaving Electra to idly chew his hand, Nova set off on his first lap. He took it slowly, letting his muscles warm up. The turf below him had an agreeable spring to it. The banks were set up to increase in steepness if you went counter-clockwise around the track, giving Nova plenty of time to prepare himself for the sharpest incline. The first corner came, and he took it with ease. Then, tucking his elbows and dropping his head, he picked up speed. He relished the wind on his face. He took the second corner, then glanced to where Electra was still sitting, watching his mother placidly.

“ _ Polstjärnan _ , you have blessed me with a beautiful child,” Nova said softly. “If only it was your will that I should see him grow up.”

He took the third corner at high speed, but before he could reach the fourth, he faltered--something had caught his eye. A pair of figures had entered the velodrome and were headed towards Electra. Even from a distance, Nova recognized Foxtrot at once. He put on a final burst of speed, reaching the foal scant seconds before Foxtrot did.

Wrench was at his side. Both halted as Nova circled Electra, spitting sparks.

“Nova, please,” the medic said, her voice sharp with frustration.. “I have had enough of this foolishness.”

Nova, watching Foxtrot steadily, knelt beside Electra. Electra, oblivious, climbed readily into his lap. “What do you want of me?” Nova asked at length. “What more can I do?”

“We don’t want anything from you, except a chance,” Wrench replied. “Just give Foxtrot a moment with the child. Perhaps we can reach an understanding.”

Foxtrot looked tense and unhappy. Blue sparks were jumping from his high crest, a certain sign that he was not pleased to be here. But he seemed unwilling to disobey Wrench, and thus held his ground. He glanced to Electra, who was tugging at Nova’s chestplate.

Wrench came forward, dropping to one knee beside Nova. “I know you have no reason to trust him. But you trust me, don’t you?”

Nova nodded once. At last he tore his gaze from Foxtrot and looked to the medic. “I will do this for Electra. Not for him.”

“No one is asking you to do it for him,” Wrench answered. “Let me take Electra.”

Reluctantly, Nova allowed Wrench to lift Electra from his lap. The colt squirmed and grunted, unwilling to be parted from his mother. But as Wrench stood, he was quick to notice Foxtrot; he stared, wide-eyed, for a long moment, taking in this relative stranger warily. Wrench gave the child a reassuring pet. Foxtrot was perfectly still, as if frozen to the spot.

At last, Electra broke out in a smile. Nova watched anxiously as he giggled and extended a tiny hand towards Foxtrot.

“Come on, then, Fox,” Wrench encouraged gently. “It’s time you held him.”

Electra was by now leaning bodily towards Foxtrot, both hands stretched out insistently. Foxtrot made no move to accept the child into his arms, so Wrench moved close enough that they could touch. Electra pet his father’s chestplate. Foxtrot watched him in silence, pale and breathing quickly. Nova got to his feet once more, ready to intervene.

“Go on, Foxtrot,” Wrench said. 

At last, Foxtrot’s arms rose, and Wrench transferred Electra carefully into them. He said nothing, staring at the child in plain discomfort. Electra was not at all put off, exploring Foxtrot’s face with gentle hands.

_ Things are too far gone now _ , Nova thought. Trahendian fathers bonded with their offspring young--Electra was well beyond that stage. Besides, Foxtrot was nothing but selfish--Nova had seen it as soon as they’d met.

Wrench, nonetheless, was smiling almost triumphantly as she watched the pair. Nova could see in her expression that she thought she had won this battle.

Abruptly, Foxtrot growled. This was Nova’s cue; he moved forward, slowly and deliberately, and retrieved Electra from Foxtrot’s arms. Electra, unfazed by his father’s rejection, mewed in protest.

Before Wrench could move to stop, Foxtrot was gone. He turned and made for the door--not the entrance to the main hall of the Racer’s quarters, but the door that led outside. It swung shut behind him with a resounding clatter.

Nova did not look to Wrench. “Make other arrangements,” he said, holding Electra close to his chest.


End file.
